Where We Belong

Xanthe reflects on centuries of fruitless attempts, idea after idea and decade after decade,

all leading nowhere, and wonders if her folly is the pursuit itself.

She once believed the thing she sought was a place beyond the Earth, surrounding it like a veil,

but that certainty has died; it may instead be a state of mind or soul beyond her comprehension.

Yet she cannot stop trying to grasp it, for it is always present —

seeping through, echoing in her mind, dragging through her nightmares,

demanding to be seen, acknowledged and known.

She describes it as a presence both alive and dead, animate and inanimate,

drawing her in while forbidding entry, promising answers while mocking her belief.

She feels she should give up but cannot: it is her hope without end, and her end without hope.